


Grand Entrance

by flashofthefuse



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-09 02:05:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6884845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flashofthefuse/pseuds/flashofthefuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phryne gets tired of waiting and takes matters into her own hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grand Entrance

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by an Instagram post from @apostrophelover. I would love to see something like this become the opening scenes of a Miss Fisher feature film and couldn't resist trying my hand at it!

**MURDER ON THE HIGH SEAS?** screamed the headline. _Wealthy socialite Cecilia Buttons was found dead on the deck of the RMS Mooltan Tuesday morning. The ocean liner, bound for England, will divert to its nearest port of call where all passengers will be detained for questioning...”_

 

* * *

 

“That's torn it,” she said, throwing the paper down in disgust. She’d finally convinced the mountain to come to Mohammed and now this. _And a murder too! Why should he have all the fun?_

She rose from her bed, screwing her nose up at the prone figure beneath the sheets, and wondering why it still lay there.

She was getting soft. This one, in particular, had been a poor substitute, even her imagination not making up for his lack of one. She went to find the phone, stopping to tell Ramsey to remove the breakfast tray, and all other detritus, from her room.

“As you wish, miss,” he said, his displeasure at the requested task obvious on his face. She shrugged. They couldn’t all be Mr. Butler.

 

* * *

 

He stood on the deck staring out over the churning water. They were moving at a faster clip now, steaming to make port as quickly as possible. He sighed. It was very peaceful on deck. He liked it. He’d even slept out a few nights, preferring it to the stuffy confines of his tiny, third class cabin and the snores of his bunkmate.

He turned to face in, leaning against the rail and watching the promenade of passengers taking their morning constitutional. The mood on ship was subdued, as was to be expected after the events of the other day.

 _If this wasn’t just all too typical,_ he thought. At the merest proximity to her, death appeared. Not just any death, but mysterious, suspicious, intriguing death. He was itching to get his hands in, but he didn’t have any authority here. He’d come upon the information too late to properly secure the scene, but had offered his services for the future to the bewildered Captain. It was yet to be seen if the man would take him up on it, but he was asking discreet questions anyway. He couldn’t seem to help himself.

 _Hang it all. This was a damned nuisance._ Who knew how long they’d be delayed, and his leave was finite. He’d probably have to turn around and head straight back to Melbourne by the time it was sorted out. What a waste of time, but that’s what he deserved for acting impetuously.

A commotion started on deck, people suddenly becoming animated, gasping and pointing to the sky. He was pulled from his quiet thoughts by the drone of an engine quite separate from any noise on board. He turned in the direction of the crowd’s gaze in time to see her standing atop the craft, adjusting the cap on her head and leaping clear. She gave a small wave to her pilot, who returned the salute before turning the plane abruptly away from her falling form.

As soon as the wings had cleared, a parachute bloomed above her head, pulling her up roughly before she continued her descent at a more leisurely pace.

He shielded his eyes, smiling broadly at the awestruck cries from the crowd gathering around him. A gust of wind caught the chute, pulling her off course and threatening to drop her in the cold, rough waters below. The crowd gasped in unison, watching breathlessly as she expertly maneuvered to bring herself back in line with the ship’s deck.

As she neared, the crowd began to part to clear space. He remained where he was, leaning casually on the rail, a small smirk of amusement forming on his handsome features.

She eyed her landing target, made a slight adjustment to her ropes, and then found the familiar silhouette she’d spied from the air, adjusting again to land as close to it as possible.

As she gently touched down, he straightened to his full height, his face an impassive mask. She barely had time to take it in before she was plunged into confusion by a mass of silk landing inelegantly over her head, enveloping her.

 _Well, that was inconvenient, and not at all as I’d envisioned this!_ She thought.

She uncoupled the straps from across her chest, flailing to remove the expanse of fabric. She heard voices murmuring in astonishment and felt someone standing near, helping to remove the offending parachute from over her.

Once freed, she pulled the cap from her head, shook loose her shining, raven tresses and looked up, beaming.

“Hallo, Jack!”

“That was quite an entrance, Miss Fisher,” he said, drolly, “but then, I’d expect nothing less.”


End file.
